


This Is How An Angel Dies

by hikari_yuma



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, I am so sorry, M/M, but in some ways i'm not, i have been emotionally compromised, oisuga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikari_yuma/pseuds/hikari_yuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hate you. I hate it. I hate...I hate everything about this."</p><p>In which Oikawa makes mistakes, Suga runs away, and both of their worlds end up crashing down around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is How An Angel Dies

**Author's Note:**

> Well, all I can say is that I hope this isn't too bad and that there aren't too many grammatical errors (I've just been emotionally compromised what else can I bring myself to say).  
> Enjoy this, if you can!

"I hate you. I hate it. I hate...I hate everything about this." The words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them, twisting and strained. They burn his mouth as they leave his throat, the syllables catching on his ragged breath and tearing the sentences into broken, clumsy things. By now he doesn't know if he means it or if he doesn't. He's done. He's done with  _everything_  and he doesn't  _want_  to care anymore. He doesn't  _need_  to look at that pretty face again, with those pain-saturated eyes staring back at him, making him want to stay.  

Those eyes haunt him now. They're a mixture of shades: they seem to be more of a mahogany coloration, with undertones and highlights of cinnamon and sienna. When the light strikes those brilliant eyes, he feels as if he's witnessing something incredible and rare, something miraculous, and it is a sight to be treasured. But what grabs at him about those eyes is the emotions in them. They're deep pools of muddled feelings, which will take time to sort through once you've delved into those enigmatic depths, but he's long since solved the puzzle behind the secrets hidden in Oikawa Tooru's eyes.

Someone is grabbing at him, at his shoulders, his torso, his arms, but all he can do is stare. When they start shaking him, he doesn't move. And neither does the brunette standing adjacent to him, with those felicitous brown eyes filled with nothing but hurt and disbelief. He wants to relish in it, and take power in it, and break free from the hands holding him tight. But he can't. It's not who he is to take pleasure in someone's anguish. It's not in his nature to want to hurt someone. Instead he wants to shake Oikawa like he himself is being shaken – he wants to make him understand how much he hurts and make him _understand_  why it is that he feels like nothing.

He has never felt this conflicted, and it scares him – no. It  _terrifies_  him, to feel so hurt and hopeful and angry all at once. He wants to cry; he can feel the burning, stinging feeling of tears behind his eyes, threatening to overflow and spill down his face. But it would be treachery to do that, and it would only hurt Tooru even more. The idiot deserves it, of course he does, that's what Iwaizumi is shouting into the silver-haired man's ear as he tried to get him to snap out of his daze, but already Sugawara Koushi is reaching out with a shaking, trembling hand, reaching out towards the very source of his pain but also the only person who would hold him close at night and soothe his fears.

They think that Oikawa is the only one to have nightmares, but they don't know how much Suga hides behind that blinding smile.

"Suga-chan..." Oikawa is whispering, his own hand tentatively reaching out towards the other, those slim fingers of his trembling, curling with hesitation –

"No." He doesn't recognise his own voice – the single word sounds strangled when he speaks. "No. Stay – stay  _away_." He's stumbling backwards, tripping over Iwaizumi, who seems reluctant to release him. But Suga's arms are flailing as he pushes the taller man away from him, shouts and protests are tumbling from his mouth in a ragged, almost unintelligible stream, and soon he is free. He takes a single look at Oikawa, with those rumpled tresses and now red-rimmed eyes that have so often trapped him in a fiery embrace, and turns away. Before he knows it, he can't see the two friends anymore. He can barely see five feet in front of him, with his vision blurring and the night giving no light to guide his path.

His only way of navigating the roads and various paths is the light of the street lamps, the yellow-orange lighting casting its dimmed length across the street. His shadow breaks through it, showing dark on the pale pavement, and his chest is already aching despite him only having run a short way. His footsteps are loud in the silent suburb, but the echoes of his feet slamming onto concrete are lost in the all-encompassing roar of his rapid heartbeat, slamming against his ribcage as he continues on. He doesn't know where he's going, he has no plan – all he knows is that he feels suffocated and all he wants is for once to simply be  _free_. He wants to be unburdened, even just for a moment, and for everything to revert back to how it used to be. When things were easy and sweet, when Oikawa would look at him with his brown eyes warm and a smile he knew beyond all reasonable doubt was genuine.

There was a time when he could catch those molten hues and smile back, when a simple compliment or flirtatious comment could make him blush. But things aren't that way for Suga anymore. He doubts that he’ll have time to fix the problem that he’s caused, but he also doubts that Oikawa will get to fix his mistakes. It hurts – no, that’s an understatement. Maybe he’ll leave now, and not come back. It’ll keep Oikawa wondering, without any hope of an answer, but at least that pain will fade. He falters at this – because will it? Will it fade? Will the pain dull with time? 

He knows how much Tooru hates being alone, he’s had to hold him close and soothe his boyfriend’s fears as Oikawa wakes screaming in the night from nightmares, reaching for Suga. Suga knows what those nightmares are about. It wasn’t hard to figure out, after all. Those nights, with the sheets tangled around them, with darkness wrapping them in its gentle embrace, Oikawa would hold onto him tightly, so much that it hurt, whispering hoarsely about how he’d lost Suga. He’d been left alone, Oikawa had repeated, over and over, until even when he would fall into fitful slumber Suga would be left awake, promising himself, promising  _Tooru_ , that he wouldn’t be the one to leave.

A headache is assaulting him now – it’s the one that follows crying, where his nose is blocked up and his eyes hurt and his head is aching. He’s standing there in the freezing cold with his hands shaking and his body beginning to become inhabited by a familiar, almost mocking chill, reminding him that it’s all very well to want to run away from life, but he didn’t know where he was and he wasn’t wearing warm enough clothing for the cold autumn night. He wrapped his arms around himself, desperately trying to take sufficient gulps of air. A faint sound, something like leaves being crushed carelessly underfoot, sounds from near him and he looked up, biting his lip.

“Hello?” His voice surprises even him. He doesn’t expect an answer. All he hears now is the wind through the trees, all he sees are shadows and the distant gleam of a lonely street lamp. Before he knows it the world is blurring, twisting and the dark greens of the vegetation blending with the dark, star-spangled sky and he’s falling backwards, gravity pulling him down towards the hard earth below him.

“Koushi.” The whisper barely reaches his ears before warm arms circle him. The world is still blurring, and whether it’s because of tears or if it’s the  _other_  thing he doesn’t know and yet he can’t bring himself to care. There’s a rough voice reaching his ears but the words are unintelligible to him. But those arms won’t let him go, and he dimly wonders if it’s Iwaizumi. Tooru wouldn’t come after him, not after…surely he wouldn’t…but who else apart from Daichi called him by his first name? And Daichi would never sound that desperate…

“Tooru?” The silver-haired man’s voice is strangled. For a few moments, he struggles in the brunette’s hold, before simply giving up and allowing himself to go limp in Oikawa Tooru’s arms. For a while it seems that Oikawa is frozen in place, but soon Suga feels himself being lowered to the ground as Oikawa drops to his knees, burying his face in Suga’s hair and clutching desperately at him.

“Dammit,” The hoarse whisper reaches his ears and he feels his heart clench. “Dammit, Suga, I am  _so sorry_  –“ The sentence ends in a sob and now it is so blatantly obvious how broken Oikawa has become.

Suga has an insane desire to laugh. Look at them, a pair of shattered wrecks, useless to anyone else, such polar opposites, huddled together on the cold, hard ground because they were each other’s lifeline, and the one thing keeping them tied to reality. Sure, reality often becomes skewed, and sure, reality is a son of a bitch and sometimes it makes you hurt so much that you want to wish it all away – but as long as their reality’s contain each other then it’ll all be fine.

Everything will be just fine.

Hesitantly, with shaking hands and burning, tear-filled eyes, he curls his hands around the dirty material of Oikawa’s shirt, pulling him close despite all of the recent events that had caused him to go in the first place.

Oikawa Tooru is, in a word, beguiling. Suga sees it in his charismatic ways and winning smile, he sees it in those prepossessing brown eyes and all of the little things about him that Sugawara has noticed throughout all of the years that he’s known Oikawa. Maybe that was why Suga was drawn to him, and still is. Maybe that's why his heart still flutters when Oikawa looks at him with a smile, why his chest warms with affection when he observes the other male.

Maybe that's one of the reasons why he still can't bring himself to go.

But his thoughts are once more broken as he hears Oikawa whispering ‘I’m sorry’, over and over again.

“What for?” He says bluntly.

“I…I kept leaving you. I didn’t listen, and I know what you must have thought all of those times – but I swear, Koushi, I  _swear_  I did nothing with them.”

“Then why didn’t you stop?” No doubt his words are having the same effect on Oikawa as would a knife. But instead of physical pain, it’s emotional, and Suga knows only too well how much  _that_ can scar someone.

“I –“

“You know what you did wrong but you didn’t do anything about it.” He continues callously. “You didn’t stop for a moment to see how much  _I_   _need_   _you_ –“

“Suga,” He feels Oikawa’s grip on him tighten. “Suga, I needed you too. But I thought you didn’t want me –“

Normally, Sugawara would be open to these kinds of discussions. They’d make everything better, they’d solve everything – but not this time.

“You don’t understand.” All of those trips to the hospital at midnight,  _alone,_ all those nights spent locked in the bathroom, shaking and afraid, left alone with nothing but the sound of his own desperate sobs and Oikawa’s voicemail. He’d never picked up. Not once. What had they become? Now there was just tension, broken promises, and for Suga, bitterness.

Was he being bitter? Yes. Was he being unfair? Probably. Did he care? Not anymore. 

“This isn’t like you, Koushi…” Tooru was muttering hoarsely. “This isn’t like you at all. C’mon, what happened to you?”

_What happened to you?_

_‘What happened to me? What happened…to me?!’_

“What happened to  _you?_ ” Suga couldn’t help but hiss, now struggling uncomfortably in Tooru’s arms.

“Suga –“

“I’m  _dying_ , Tooru!” He shrieks, because it can’t be classified as anything else. “I’m…dying…” But now it seems that the reality is hitting him now, slamming into his consciousness like a brick wall. He feels that familiar feeling again, the one where he’s drowning. It’s like a noose, wrapping around him, tangling with his limbs, constricting him in a cruel embrace and refusing to let go. He feels… _lost._ He can feel Oikawa shaking him, feel hot tears hitting his face, and yet the realisation isn’t painful, as he was told. It’s heavy, and suffocating, and stifling. It’s dangerous and malicious. It’s as brutal and pitiless as his illness, tempered with his own dread.

He’s drowning in it.

And he hates it.

“No…no, I don’t believe you! You’re lying!”

_‘Am I?’_

“This is some sort of sick joke, right? I probably deserve it, Suga, but don’t joke about something like this!”

_‘You weren’t there.’_

“Fuck…Koushi…Koushi, talk to me,  _please!_ ”

_‘You were never there.’_

“ _Koushi!_ ”

_‘I love you. I love you and it hurts and I wish I was stronger and I had more time.’_

“Suga, why won’t you talk to me?”

“Where…were…you?”

He's drowning.

He's drowning, and there's no escape. 

~~~

It's only a few weeks later when the grave is filled.

It's only a few weeks later when Oikawa Tooru is forced to let him go.

At the funeral everyone is talking about Suga, talking about how great he was, how talented and caring he was, and yet he can’t seem to hear them. Tooru knows that – knows just how special Suga was, and it’s a constant reminder of his failure towards his boyfriend. People were patting him on the back and casting him sympathetic or pitying glances, telling him it’d ‘all be okay’ even though he knows it won’t be – not anymore. But it all blends into background noise. He feels numb. That noose that Suga had worn was his now, it seemed. But he can’t help but wonder - was this how Suga had felt, whenever he was at home alone? Was this how Suga had felt - trapped and alone, with no escape? There was so much he hadn't done for Sugawara...

Would've, could've, should've.

_'Didn't.'_

His angel is dead, and there was nothing he could have done. 

His angel is dead, and his life has no meaning.

_'So, this is how an angel dies.'_

**Author's Note:**

> Note to self: never kill one of your favourite characters again.  
> Note to self: actually do it, just /not Suga/.  
> I hope this wasn't too bad! Kudos and comments/constructive criticism are always welcome and are really appreciated! c:  
> This is a birthday gift-fic to my dear friend Cali, tumblr user enno-so-done-with-your-shit-a ^-^


End file.
